


Blue

by Valmouth



Category: NaPolA | Before the Fall (2004)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 17:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4488729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valmouth/pseuds/Valmouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have lost him there beneath the ice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own no rights to the works this is derived from. I mean no offence by posting this and make no money from it.

He waits for me behind the hard, unyielding ice. His hand outstretched and so close I can feel the heat of his palm beneath the frost on the surface of the lake.

His eyes are wide. I can see them. I can see them even now. Dark and so terrified. Those eyes have looked into mine. They have shed tears and seen blood. They have read the words of printed books in ways that I can never follow. But I can read his eyes, and they are as dark as his soul.

He looked blue, lost beneath that ice. Perhaps it was the ice, perhaps it was the light. Perhaps it was death flowing into every cell of his body. His body had never been blue before. It should not have been allowed for that to happen.

Did they not know? What he would do beneath the ice? They were men, adults. I was a child, useless and inexperienced. I thought forever was the last year we had to spend as friends. How did they never know when they sent him into eternity he would not return?

I knew. I still know. I look at his dark, haunted eyes and I know.

I scream for him but I know he will not come. I have an axe beside me but I have no time and his hand is on the ice from underneath, turning blue to the nails. I have cracked the ice once in search of him but he shakes his head and I know.

His hair, so dark, so soft against my fingers when we cried, his hair floats free in the water. Each strand is delicate, not long, but fragile. The water will tear each hair from his head and the water will wrinkle his blue skin. The grip of years will melt the flesh from his slender bones.

Hard, so very hard.

He was hard beneath my cheek, his chest heaving with each sound. We cried for the dead and the dying. We cried for our friends, who didn’t know. We cried for him and I cried for myself because I was losing him. I was losing myself through losing him.

I have lost him now, there beneath the ice.

I was still screaming as he sank, his hand still outstretched.

I see the hand and I know. As I know now that he would always sink. I know that I will follow him. Not at once, but soon. We will rot together and the world will not care.


End file.
